The Princess - he should call her the Queen now, but to him she would always be the Princess - looked older than she had just one week ago. Her robes were heavier and darker, her hair more tightly coiled, and the bloom in her cheeks had gone. She stood on the podium with her husband surveying the courtiers before them, her subjects. The King certainly had a bloom in his cheeks. He seemed to have grown several inches and his strong chin was slightly lifted as he enjoyed the adulation of the crowd.
The guard stood quietly at the back of the room, trying be inconspicuous, but to his discomfort he had already caught the attention of some of the Ladies. One voluptuous young woman was staring at him intently and smiling suggestively. An older man beside her noticed what she was doing and roughly pulled her away. The guard smiled to himself, it was a long time since he had felt like laughing.
His situation at this castle was far removed from his one at the Palace. When he served the Princess he had lived his days in chaste, silent duty but here he was free to come and go as he pleased, and he was being faced with all sorts of temptations and distractions. From the serving girls to the married Ladies, they all seemed more than willing to help heal his bruised heart. On the very first night he had arrived, a maid had appeared in his quarters and without even speaking had proceeded to disrobe. He had stopped her as she was about to reveal her ample breasts in the candle light, and she had been most put-out, flouncing out of the room in disgust.
He soon realised that here there was a general atmosphere of debauchery. The court seemed to thrive on gossip and sexual intrigue; he had overheard many a conversation that shocked him. Marriage seemed to be a business arrangement rather than a moral one, and the married men and women clearly saw the taking of lovers as an amusing perk.
Since his arrival he had been hounded by one married woman in particular. Her name was Isabella, she had told him this while sticking an agile tongue in his ear, when she was supposed to be watching a performance by the court troubadour. She was a handsome woman, with thick mahogany hair and wide hips beneath a small waist. Her dress was bordering on the indecent. He had never seen a bodice cut so low and whenever she was near him, he found his eyes straying to the bouncing globes of flesh that it barely encased. She noticed, of course, and played on his involuntary lust by moistening her lips and pushing her finger into her mouth in a way that made him hard.
It had been a long time since he had made love to the Princess. He had endured long weeks of conquering his desire. Now she was not only married, but also the Queen which made her even more untouchable. His dreams were still full of her wet quim and ecstatic moans, and he was about to burst with unspent tension. Maybe he needed a woman like Isabella. One that would not demand love. It would help him focus on his task.
So one night, when she cornered him in a dark alcove, he responded to her flirtations. As her hand rested on his chest, he grasped it and moved it down to cover the hardening bulge in his trousers. Part of him was hoping this would scare her off, but she wasn't even shocked. In fact, she was delighted. 'Such a man!' she had smoothly murmured into his ear, 'I knew you would have a big cock.' And his bulge grew even larger, almost bursting through his flies.
He had smuggled her into his room where he had played with her tits for a while before stripping her naked and taking her roughly from behind. She had waved her lush bottom in the air, and he had not been able to resist spanking it until red wheels appeared on her flesh, and then slamming his painfully hard cock into her again and again until she was screaming out in uncontrolled ecstasy and he was spraying thick wads of endless juice onto her trembling buttocks.
The following night, he had met her in the dark courtyard and pushed her up against a wall. Biting a nipple that peaked over her bodice, he had shoved his hand between her legs and thrust his fingers up her. She had twisted and writhed like a crazy woman and it had aroused him so much that he had pulled out his cock and fucked her against the cold stone, oblivious to the rain pouring down on them.
He had never before had such aggressive sex bordering on the violent and it left him ashamed, but it slaked a need in him and dampened his hatred for a while.